Musings on Marriage
by fatherlessgirls
Summary: Col. Fitzwilliam observes Darcy and Elizabeth while on a visit to Pemberley during their first months of marriage.


Col. Fitzwilliam turned to his hostess with a smile. "The United States of America. Do you think it will last, Mrs. Darcy?"

Elizabeth responded "My husband thinks it will last and I make a point of never disagreeing with him unless I am certain that he is right or have certain information that he is mistaken. In this case, since I am confident on neither point, I am happy to agree with him."

Col. Fitzwilliam continued. "Does it not seem to you to be against the Darcy esprit to have such significant investments in the Americas? When they were colonies, that was a different matter, but a young nation is a risky business. The Darcys were never gamblers." Fitzwilliam looked at his cousin to gauge how he liked being teased in front of his new wife, but Darcy showed no reaction and didn't look up from his book.

Elizabeth answered "As I have only known one man with the name Darcy, I cannot say that anything he does is unlike a Darcy."

At this Darcy put down his book and looked over to where his wife and his cousin were talking "You see Fitzwilliam, you cannot divide us. My wife will defend me against your useless defamation."

"That will not do at all!" cried Elizabeth, as Darcy walked over to where they were standing "I defend you out of ignorance alone!"

Darcy stared at her, examining her face and said nothing for a moment and then looking down at his wife with a half-smile he breathed an almost inaudible reply. "As long as we have been acquainted I've never known you to do anything out of ignorance _alone_."

Elizabeth blushed from what she knew her husband meant to be a compliment, and then smiled as she reflected that at one time that remark and its delivery would have stung her as an imagined slight.

Col. Fitzwilliam felt that the conversation had slipped away from his intended topic, and from him altogether. He was pleased by the banter he observed between Darcy and his bride and he couldn't help but admire the curve of Elizabeth's gown as she moved to sit next to Georgiana, who was wanting her attention.

Col. Fitzwilliam had always thought Elizabeth was very pretty, but now he felt that he noticed her more. In fact, he had found it quite difficult during his stay at Pemberley to take his eyes off her. This puzzled him because he knew that he was not in love. His feelings for Mrs. Darcy were actually quite well defined in his mind. He admired her as a sensible and attractive woman. He liked the qualities he observed her bringing out in her husband. Mostly, he admired Darcy for marrying her. He had not forgotten that Darcy had had marriage options that included daughters of some of the richest men in England. But instead Darcy had married a woman who stood on her own, who existed without him, who brought life to his house and energy to his ideas. Fitzwilliam was certain that they were a perfect match, and he felt that Darcy's falling in love with her was an uncharacteristic and imaginative stroke of genius. Fitzwilliam doubted if he himself would have been so brave.

Elizabeth had noticed Col. Fitzwilliam's attention and was puzzled by it. Had she been able to read his thoughts at that moment, while Georgiana was confiding to her her desire to retire upstairs and Mr. Darcy was stoking his fire, she would have been touched, certainly, and flattered deeply, but she would have felt that Col. Fitzwilliam gave her too much credit. Elizabeth did not feel that she had an innate understanding of her husband's thoughts or that she could claim any credit for his actions. Certainly she appreciated his goodness to a degree that would have, at one time, seemed unfathomable to her. However, she felt that she was always struggling to understand him, to read his expressions and his silences.

Elizabeth had found marriage to be an intimacy that she had never imagined possible. She could catch her husband's gaze across a room and feel instantly supported. In every conversation and situation she had an ally, whether he was with her or not, and whatever his opinion on the subject. It was a heart-racing thrill to think that, whoever the company, she would rather be talking to him and she enjoyed being jealous of the time he gave to other people, because then she would get to re-experience the emotional victory when he would choose her again and again with a look and a smile. She almost enjoyed creating situations where they were in company, and therefore forced to sit apart, so she would have the pleasure of missing him.

If Mr. Darcy had been aware of this little manipulation he would not have understood it. His desires were simpler. He wanted to be near his wife. He wanted to hear her laugh whether or not the laugh was for him. What he did not realize was that the laugh was always for him, whether or not he was in earshot.

_Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think._

_A/N1: This is a short little nothing of a oneshot. I just found it hand-written in an old notebook that I was tearing apart for scratch paper. I must have written it over a decade ago, before I had any idea that there was such a thing as fanfiction. I am completely absorbed by another fandom right now, and I have a few, more elaborate, stories planned over there that I have been working on, but I now remember that I used to write little P&P vignettes all the time in the margins of my notebooks. It was almost a form of doodling for me. I can't believe I had forgotten all about that! And here I have been telling myself that writing fanfic is not a natural impulse for me. I don't know where those notebooks are now, probably mostly in storage at my parent's house, but if I come across any other pieces that seem to be in decent enough shape I will publish them. And maybe together, as a collection of oneshots, they will amount to something more substantial than this little scene._

_A/N2: I can see that this story needs work (she feels "supported" by her husband? How's that for a postmodern sentiment?), but I don't dare touch it. It has been a long time since I revisited Jane Austen and I'm sure that I don't have her voice in my head as well as I used to, so I'm sending this out into the world in this imperfect, notebook-rough state. _

_A/N3: I'm dedicating this to Steenbeans. I've been wanting to thank her for her beautiful work, with a story of my own, for a long time. I know this is the wrong fandom Steen, but I also know you speak the language of P&P, so how about I start here?_


End file.
